


Domesticity

by ShelbyLehnsherr



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slash, X-Men: First Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-19
Updated: 2011-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelbyLehnsherr/pseuds/ShelbyLehnsherr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five short drabbles on how Erik Lensherr and Charles Xavier are evolving into a beautiful domestic couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

It’s early by his own standards; though he’s yet to even crack one eye open, Charles is well aware of the fact that it’s well before the time he would usually drag himself out of bed. Had he been given his way, he would never leave the warm comfort of linens and pillows -- mornings had never favored him very well, whether they were accompanied by a long night of restless sleep or a nasty hangover from the wilder days of his youth. He can hear the low hum of activity in the lower levels of the mansion; in the kitchen, Sean is forging a gallant effort with the toaster oven while Alex watches, tossing the occasional taunt over a glass of orange juice.

Raven is still asleep -- she, at least, shares in his to waste away the first hours of the morning in bed -- and Hank is already tucked away in the makeshift lab he’s created, hunched over formulas and research. He’s reaching for Erik when he feels fingers brush against the nape of his neck and smooth down his sleep-mused hair and he smiles sleepily into his pillow.

“I will never understand your desire to wake with the sun.” His voice is still thick with sleep and he opens bleary eyes to see Erik leaning over him, hair still damp from the shower. “It’s far too early.”

Erik chuckled lowly, tips of his fingers teasing the hair at the nape of Charles’ neck. “And I will never understand how you can waste the day away by sleeping.” He mumbled, leaning down and planting a firm kiss on the telepaths forehead, earning a soft grunt of approval in return.

The clock barely struck seven and Erik was (and had been) up and about for the last half hour, unlike his partner, who was still (and will remain) asleep. Usually Charles did not rouse from his slumber until after he returned to the bedroom after his morning routines were complete. Promptly at seven, he would jog around the mansion property until he assumed he’d covered a total distance of three miles. At seven forty-five, he would go down to the weight room and do reps until his muscles ached for a break. But it was very like Erik to push himself to the point of absolute exhaustion.

He would then return to the bedroom for another (much needed) shower, only to see his lover finally rise out of bed at precisely nine.

Erik smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched Charles dig his head back into the pillow. “You know, maybe if you woke a half hour earlier, you could join me for a shower.” He arched a brow, nose thoughtfully nudging aside from of Charles’ hair to kiss a space just behind his ear.

\---

They find themselves standing in front of the wardrobe side-by-side, the doors thrown open to reveal a closet full of long-sleeved sweaters. Charles sighs, but the edges of it are curled with something akin to amusement -- he casts a sidelong glance at Erik and shakes his head.

“Really, Erik, we’ve got to get you some better clothes.” he says, chiding, and he can’t keep the grin from his face. “It’s sweltering out.”

Erik silently rummaged through the closet, acknowledging Charles’ statement with a curt nod. The temperature in the area was gradually rising to a level that he could not ignore. He’d managed to get through the fall and winter seasons without a problem, but as spring was just around the corner, his trademark turtleneck would not suffice.

“What are you suggesting?” The metal-bender asked, eyes scanning over the various dark shades of shirts hanging in front of him. “That you take me clothes shopping? That you dress me?” He smirked, turning to face the other mutant.

“Well --” Really he’d thought of sending Raven or someone far more capable of picking out clothes; he’s clung to his standard uniform of button-downs and cardigans for so long that it’s a wonder he can find it in himself to comment on someone else’s wardrobe at all. “-- I suppose I could, yes.”

He’s well aware of the fact of how domesticated it all seems; months ago they were two strangers meeting under less than desirable circumstances, now, they’re planning shopping trips. He would laugh at the outrageousness of it, but there’s a sense of warmth bubbling in the pit of his stomach and it just feels right, somehow. Charles smiles again and shrugs in an offhand, almost careless way, gesturing toward the open wardrobe. “Unless you plan on suffering through the summer in those.”

Erik visibly flinched at the thought. He hadn’t been in the states long enough to know just how hot the coming seasons got, but he wasn’t on board with the idea of wearing long-sleeves. “And what about you?” Erik asked casually, and in one quick stride, he was in front of Charles, fingers hooking in the pockets of his cardigan. “I haven’t seen you in anything else but these.”

Erik dipped his head, closing the gap between their lips.

Suddenly, clothes were the last thing on their minds.

\---

“It’s really not in need of any cleaning; it’s perfectly organized just the way it is.”

He’s standing in front of the door to his personal study, back pressed against the smooth wood and eyes locked steadily on Erik’s. The first few days since their return to the mansion have been solely devoted to cleaning and organizing -- many of the rooms have remained unused for years, gathering more than enough dust to be deemed completely unfit for habitation. He’s set the children to work with some of the smaller projects, things he believes they can handle without hurting themselves or wreaking havoc upon the house. But this has been kept for last, and he’s firmly resolute on swaying Erik from ever stepping foot inside.

But he can see the doubt in Erik’s face even without the aid of his telepathy, the hint of a grin that threatens to split his face in two. “Then why are you blocking the door, Charles?”

Charles only gapes for a brief moment, struggling to find something witty to say. “Because,” he begins gallantly, shifting from one foot to the other, “a man’s study is his sanctuary, and it shouldn’t be disturbed -- Erik!” He’s interrupted as the other man quickly steps past him and gets a hand on the knob before Charles even has a chance to stop him.

The door swings open to reveal what could possibly be the messiest room in the entire mansion -- a great oak desk occupies one corner, laden with precarious stacks of paperwork and scholarly journals in risk of toppling over; book shelves line the walls, filled to the very brim with more books than anyone could possibly read in an entire lifetime (he prides himself on the fact that he’s read many of them twice); any other available surface is covered with some sort of research or scrap of paper, all valuable to him but completely useless to someone else. Charles clears his throat quietly and stands to Erik’s right, surveying the room with feigned surprise.

“Ah,” he says mildly, hands clasped behind his back. “Perhaps it’s a tad bit messier than I remembered.”

Erik had to resist the urge to laugh. He had known Charles for quite some time and never once had he seen what is behind this door. But now that he does know, all of his previous statements on how he swore Charles to be a compulsive ‘neat-freak’ were retracted. His eyes scanned the room, eyebrows rising in amusement. “A tad bit messier?” He repeated, a chuckle finally slipping from his lips. “Exactly how clean do you ever remember it being?”

Typically, it was possible to make organization out of catastrophe. In this case, it was not. There were more books on the shelves than Erik would ever have the patience to count. Papers were scattered about the room, but even though they did not appear to be in any particular order, Erik felt that if he so much as moved one, it would throw Charles completely off.

“It’s a very organized chaos, thank you.” Charles sniffs, bristling at Erik’s amused chuckle. He glances around the room and then back at the other man, nodding as if to assure himself of the fact that the study is in some semblance of order. He could very well pick out the location of any of the documents and texts if asked; though he may not be the most organized of men (Raven always tells him he has the look of a perpetually rumpled professor, much to his chagrin) he is certainly one of the most knowledgeable of his own resources.

“I happen to know where everything is, despite the looks of things.” He says again, offering Erik a somewhat sheepish smile. “Which is why I would prefer to leave things very well alone.”

Erik shrugged. He supposed he could understand that. He was just thankful he’d never have to work in it. Eventually, the untidiness of the space would drive him completely insane. Erik liked things to be organized, and when things weren’t, he got a tad bent out of shape. “Then I suppose offering to help you clean is out of the question.”

\---

The children were restless -- near-sweltering temperatures left them in no mood for training or remaining indoors, and it had only taken one perfectly-timed rebellion for them all to go bounding toward the Olympic-sized pool in the backyard, already laughing and threatening to dunk one another as soon as they reached the water. He only followed them outdoors to provide some sort of supervision -- despite the fact that they were all in their later teenage years, they still proved themselves to be obnoxiously immature when left alone -- with a book in hand and the top buttons of his shirt undone, taking a seat in one of the empty lawn chairs.

The first hour of their poolside break passed quietly enough; he was halfway through a study on genetic theory and glancing sideways at Erik every few moments when absolute pandemonium broke out.

“Hey, stop it!”

That was Raven, screeching at the top of her lungs as Sean swam winding circles around her float in mimicry of a shark, ginger hair bright even in the crisp blue of the pool. Charles glanced up just in time to see the float flip over and send Raven toppling into the water after a well-placed kick from Sean; she resurfaced a moment later, let out another shriek, and grabbed the other boy by the shoulders so that she could shove him under.

“Raven!” She let him go and left him sputtering and glaring as he gathered his wounded pride and retreated back to where Alex waited in the deeper end of the pool. “Be nice to Sean, please --,”

He really should have seen her next move coming; one moment, he was standing perfectly dry at the edge of the pool and the next, the bottom half of his trousers and shoes were soaking wet. She smiled up at him innocently, shrugging at his indignant glare.  
“Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure, Charles.”

Erik chuckled and stood from the chaise he’d been laying out on, in a pair of dark swim trunks, walking to the edge of the pool to stand next to Charles. “Now that you are already wet,” He started, glancing at the bottom of his soaked trousers. “You might as well just get in.”

With that, Erik leapt into the pool, some of the stray water droplets getting the rest of Charles that was still dry.

“The shark is back in the water!” Sean shouted from the deep end, earning a laugh from both Hank and Alex, who immediately silenced themselves once they saw the glare Erik shot them from across the pool. Raven looked at Erik expectantly, as if to say, ‘Now, you see what I mean’.

Erik nodded in return, smirking lightly to himself. Surely, Sean would get a taste of his own medicine later on. Charles shook his head at the mischievous plots swimming through Raven’s head, and then turned to Erik. Just as Erik parted his lips to say something, he scolded, “Don’t give her any ideas.” Knowing Erik, a little prank could result in world war three.

\---

As the days went on, Erik saw him and Charles becoming more and more like a married couple.

They went grocery shopping together, they cooked together (even though most of the time it was Erik teaching Charles how to not burn another meal), Charles was the last person he saw before he went to bed, and the first person he saw when he woke up. Strangely enough, Erik would not trade it for anything. It was the quiet moments like these that made him, his life, feel all the more normal.

Even if they were just washing dishes. Or at least, Charles was washing, and he was drying.

A small smile tugged at his lips, glancing at the telepath out of the corner of his eye. Charles was smiling too, even though nothing had really been said between them. Sometimes, no words were necessary. He accepted a plate that Charles passed him, drying it with the dishtowel he’d been holding.

“We’re awfully domestic, aren’t we?”

The very last place Charles expected to find himself was in the kitchen of his childhood home, up to his elbows in dishwater and standing next to a man he’d pulled from the water only weeks ago, but here he was. He couldn’t help but smile as he looked over at Erik, feeling the same tingle of warmth and affection that bubbled up in the pit of his stomach anytime he allowed his attention to settle again on the other man.

“The next thing you know, we’ll be picking out new china for the kitchen and discussing whether we want to replace the wallpaper or simply paint.” He laughed, but the scenario didn’t sound entirely terrible -- Raven had teased him about it, of course, saying that he and Erik resembled parents more so than any of their biological ones -- and even he had caught himself contemplating their relationship more and more often.

He feels his smile falter slightly and he’s suddenly serious -- Erik’s face mimics his own now, but there’s a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Do you...do you ever see this, us, going further?”

Least to say, Erik hadn’t quite expected that question. Though, he caught the hint of seriousness laced through Charles words, even if he had laughed his own statement off. Even though it caught him off guard, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the same thing. “Going further?” He repeated, putting down the plate and taking another. “Do you mean,” Erik paused, sorting this thoughts before he began to speak again. “Finally moving into the same bedroom?” When Charles shook his head slightly and smiled, Erik mimicked the expression and continued on.

“Eventually getting out of here and getting a place of our own? Maybe, if possible, getting married..?” Erik pressed a kiss to Charles’ forehead, not being able to help the smile that crossed his lips. He didn’t know how far in the future it would be before something like that was allowed and accepted, but it was certainly something to look forward to.

 **-End-**


End file.
